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by FFanon



Category: Sweet Virginia (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 17:24:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11445552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FFanon/pseuds/FFanon
Summary: I was lucky enough to see 'Sweet Virginia' at the Tribeca Film Festival and Jon Bernthal's character, Sam Rossi, has stuck with me ever since.  This fic is a result of that.There are NO spoilers.  Just character names used.





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**Author's Note:**

> I was lucky enough to see 'Sweet Virginia' at the Tribeca Film Festival and Jon Bernthal's character, Sam Rossi, has stuck with me ever since. This fic is a result of that.
> 
> There are NO spoilers. Just character names used.

He feels your arm across his bare chest and your fingers ever so gently caressing his beard covered jaw.  He turns his head to say good morning only to find you asleep next to him, on your stomach with your other hand tucked under the pillow. A soft chuckle escapes him at the fact you were caressing him in your sleep.

 

He grasps your wrist and pulls it away from his face, lightly kissing your fingers. At the sensation, your eyelids slowly open and find Sam looking at you as he turns over, leaning his body on yours. Still tired, you smile softly and snuggle your head into the pillow more, closing your eyes.  You feel the tickling of his beard as his soft lips press gentle kisses around your face, his chest rising and falling against your back.  

 

It’s early in the morning; still dark as the sun hasn’t woken up yet itself.  A light drizzle provides the ambient sound of peace as the raindrops hit against the motel around you.

 

The shell of your ear receives one of his kisses before you feel his nose push against it. His sleep riddled voice speaks low, “Good Morning”.

 

You open your eyes once more and turn your head just a bit to see him better. Your upper body turns so you can cup his cheek, give a quick scratch of his beard, “Good Morning,” and he finishes your own thought when he leans down to kiss you. You fully turn onto your back underneath his nude form, his hips lining up with your own bare ones.

 

The sheets just barely come up above his rear, so your hands are free to easily move along his back and his muscles that lie underneath.  When his lips move from yours, you grasp his face and pull him back. Lifting your head you press a kiss between his eyes.

 

He leans down to kiss your collarbone before lifting his face again to look at you with the adoration he has.

 

“I gotta go. Rosie and Maggie will be here soon. Need to shower before they do,” and you almost whisper it, as if afraid that any louder of a voice would destroy this perfect moment.

 

His lips brush against your neck, beard brushing your collarbone, “Got a shower here,” he murmurs against your skin.

 

Sam just trails the tip of his nose up your neck before kissing below your ear.  Your hand is buried in his hair at the back of his head, gently scratching.

 

“I have a feeling it wouldn’t be a productive one with you around.”

 

The breath from his quiet laugh hits your skin and you smile in return.  He lifts his head and looks down at you as his hand smooths over your hair. Gently you give his beard a little tug and pull him down for a quick kiss.

 

He smiles against you before pulling away and slowly sitting up, exposing your body to the cool air seeping through the tiny cracks of the old walls. You follow him up, the goosebumps across your flesh not going unnoticed by the gentle man next to you.

 

His arm wraps around your waist and your temple is given a soft kiss before he’s letting you go.

 

He stands up alongside you and as you pick up your clothes, getting dressed, he’s pulling fresh clothes from a drawer.  Once you’re finished, he has yet to put a shirt on, you walk over and run a hand through his bed head hair with a soft smile.

 

He squeezes your hip before you look at him, sharing a smile as you leave his room.  A quick look around in the darkened parking lot before you’re crossing it to get to your own room.

 

Both you and Sam live at the motel permanently.  You came here over a year ago, a single woman looking for something new when you stopped here for a rest. It was a ‘Help Wanted’ sign on the office door that changed your plans. Needing more money, you decided to inquire about it. That’s how you became assistant manager of the motel and it was also the reason you grew close with Sam, the manager. The friendship grew romantic months later, but no one else knows that.

 

Sam’s past is not completely happy; he has a slight limp to prove it. All he wants is a quiet, unassuming life. As part of that, he’s made it obvious he doesn’t want your relationship to be the knowledge of anyone. It’s as if he’s afraid it may ruin the peaceful moments you two share almost every night.

 

When you finish with your shower and are dressed in a fresh set of clothes, you head over to the small office and find Sam pouring himself a cup of coffee.  He turns his head slightly at the sound of the door opening, him seeing who it is in his peripheral.  You sidle up to him and he hands you the cup he just poured. Gratefully you accept it, pouring some powdered creamer in it.

 

“You hate that stuff,” Sam notes.

 

“I hate black coffee more,” you respond with a small shrug.

 

“Ever try it?” He sticks his cup out. You look at him, then his cup, then at him again.

 

With a quick roll of your eyes, you take his cup as he smirks. A small sip and you grimace at the bitter taste.  He takes the cup back from your outstretched hand and wraps his arm around you, rubbing your lower back.

 

“Trying to kill me,” you tease.

 

“Just confirming that you do in fact hate black coffee,” he smiles against your hairline before kissing it.  

 

Sam catches a glimpse of Maggie walking across the parking lot and he moves away from you. You understand without even having to ask. It’s his shyness about doing it that you don’t understand. He’s the one who wants it this way, so why does he seem guilty about it?

 

Maggie’s a sophomore in high school who works the front desk part time for some extra cash. Sam has become like a surrogate father to her and when you showed up, you two quickly formed an almost sisterly bond.

 

“Morning!” She greets as she enters the office. Sam walks around the desk to give her a one armed hug and a peck on the head. You throw her a smile and a returned greeting.   

 

She bumps your hip playfully as she passes by to take Sam’s spot behind the desk and takes a seat on the stool.  

 

You take her hand to hold up her fingers, she has striped nail polish on with her school colors.

 

“That’s pretty cool Mags!”

 

She looks at them, “Thanks! My friend Cindy did it last night when we hung out.”

 

Sam was leaning against the doorway, “There any boys at this hang out?” He finishes his coffee and heads back to the coffee pot.

 

“Oh my god Sam, no,” Maggie answers, embarrassed by his protectiveness.  

 

As Sam’s back is towards you both, you nudge Maggie and mouth, ‘Were there?’ with a smirk. She smiles and nods enthusiastically.

 

Sam turns around and catches a quick glimpse of Maggie’s response.

 

“Hey now, who was it? It wasn’t that Thompson kid, was it? Mags he’s bad news, I’ve told you that,” and he sounds like he’s got more to say but you step in front of him and put a hand on his chest. It happens to be his bare chest since he neglected to button half his shirt and you hope Maggie doesn’t take any special attention to the placement of your touch.  

 

“Maggie, why don’t you go help Rosie with the inventory?” you suggest with a light tone.

Maggie giggles and agrees, quickly leaving the office.

 

“Easy there, cowboy.”

 

Sam points after her, but otherwise doesn’t move, and looks at you, “She knows she’s got a better future if she steers clear of those sorry excuses.”

 

The small smirk on your face catches his eye and he lets out a sigh before he finds himself mirroring your expression, “What?”

 

“She’s a teenager. They hang out with boys. You need to relax a bit.”

 

Your thumb is rubbing against his smooth chest and his hand finds your hip.

 

“You know I ain’t some wild bull for you to tame,” his voice is lower now and his eyes soft.

 

“But aren’t you though?”

 

With his hand still on your hip, you know the coast is clear so when he turns his head with a smile and a quick laugh, you press your face against his bearded jaw and laugh against it at his reaction. He moves his hand to cup the back of your head and you lean back when you feel his head turn back towards you.

 

A smile still on his face, “Yeah, alright. You may be right.”

 

“Yeah? You mean about Mags or taming you?”

 

He leans his forehead against yours, “Both”.

 

It’s the sound of high heels quickly crossing the asphalt of the parking lot that breaks you both apart from one another.  Just as the office door swings open, you and Sam separate.

 

The woman is dressed provocatively and you hate to judge, but it’s clear what her profession is.

 

“Can I help you ma’am?” Sam’s drawl more noticeable with the phrase.

 

“Yeah! That guy you have stayin’ in Room 134 owes me money! He’s refusing to pay me!”

 

He puts a hand up to calm her, “I’m sorry ma’am but that’s really a matter for the police.”

 

“The police?! Yeah, ‘cause that’ll work out real well for me,” she rolls her eyes with a loud huff, “Thanks for nothing asshole!”

 

After she storms out, you look at him, “134’s been a real problem since he showed up.”

 

Sam runs a hand down his face, “I know, I know.”

 

He makes his way out from behind the desk and you know he’s headed to talk to the guy.

 

“Sam, be careful. He seems to be drunk all the time.”

 

He gives a quick nod and you watch as he limps across the lot towards the room.  You stay by the doorway in case god forbid you need to call the cops.

 

From your viewpoint, Sam knocks and you can tell from his dropped shoulders and wringing of his hands, he’s uncomfortable at the situation. He just wants a peaceful life...this isn’t part of it.

 

The man, who has a few inches on Sam, opens the door. Sam calmly says something, the man angrily replies back before slamming the door in his face.  Sam hangs his head briefly before heading back to you.

 

You slightly open your hand that's hanging at your side and Sam quickly grips it and squeezes as he passes by into the office.  

 

“Maybe you can mention it to Charlie at poker tonight?” You follow him back inside. Charlie plays poker with Sam once a week and he happens to be a cop.

 

“Yeah,” he sounds tired.

 

You walk to his side and he keeps his eyes down on the reservation book even though you both know he’s not really reading it.

 

Your move your hand under his chin to grasp the side of his face you can’t see and he lets you turn his face where you press a kiss under his eye then on his opposite cheek.

 

He used to be different. He used to be somebody. A man with no limitations, nothing to hold him back. And he misses his old self at times, you can tell.  Like right now.

As you start to slide your arms around his neck, he’s already hugging you to his side.

 

-

 

Poker runs late as usual and Sam pulls his truck into his usual space in the motel lot.  He sees a light on in your room so he quickly heads through the rain to your door.

 

A couple raps on your door and you know it’s Sam.

 

With a deep breath, you open the door.

 

“Who did it?” he immediately seethes upon seeing your bruised cheek and scraped jaw. You were holding a bag of ice that you had been holding against your eye and when Sam touches your jaw, you notice it hasn’t stopped bleeding yet from the red that's on his fingertips.

 

“134. I heard a woman screaming for help, I couldn’t not doing anything,” you quickly explain, “Another prostitute, but he beat her this time. She ran out when he hit me.”

 

“Stay here,” he quietly demands before turning around and making a beeline for Room 134. His hands are clenched into fists, something you’ve never seen him do before.

 

He’s quickly drenched and as soon as 134 opens the door, Sam punches him sending him falling back into the room. You watch as Sam follows him in before shutting the door behind him, leaving you to now see nothing.

 

You can only keep your eyes on the door and hope everything works out.  A few minutes later, Sam exits the room. As he gets closer to you, you make out a cut on his cheek and his knuckles on his right hand bleeding.

 

He gently pushes you inside and shuts the door behind you both.

 

Gently you reach for his cheek, breathing out his name.

 

His hand wraps around your wrist to stop you.

 

“Put that ice back on your eye while I call Charlie.”

 

And you do. Charlie responded over with another officer and spoke with Sam before removing the unconscious body of 134 from the room. Sam would be free from any trouble too.

 

Currently, Sam has you seated on the bathroom counter in your room as he touches a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic against your scraped jaw.

 

“Damn it, Sam!” you jolt away from the sting.

 

He pulls you back by taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, then gently blows on the scraped area.

 

The sensation sends a chill down your spine.  

“Better?”

 

You nod.

 

You then return the favor with his knuckles, which he flexes from the stinging, followed by the cut on his cheek. As he did for you, you lightly blow on it. But before you could finish, he quickly moves his face and captures your lips with his.

 

It’s quick, but deep.  And when he pulls away, he doesn’t say anything, just continues tending to you.

 

Trauma affects people differently, that’s what you chalk it up to. The emotion swells in your chest right before you feel the tears start.  Sam had just finished wrapping his knuckles when he saw the first couple tears hit the top of your thighs. As soon as he lifts his head to look at you, you see the mix of love and concern in his eyes and it somehow makes it worse.  How fast he wraps you up in his arms isn’t lost on you and your face is pressed against his shoulder.

 

“Hey, shh, shh. Hey, I’ve got ya. You’re okay, you’re alright,” he says so sweet and so reassuring.

 

-

 

It’s about a week later and both of you are almost pretty much healed.

 

His mouth is moving against yours, the exhales from his nose hitting yours. Sam’s sitting on the edge of the bed with your own naked body straddling his, legs wrapped around him.  As he guides you with a hand on your ass, he cups your jaw as he starts kissing the other side of your face.  Your hands make a mess of his hair as you move against him.

 

His hand moves to splay across your upper back as a way to secure you from leaning back too far once you hit your high. Though you close your eyes at the sensation, he watches your face as it washes over you; the way your lips part so your moans have somewhere to go.  You catch him staring when you finally look and you kiss him in return. A couple more minutes of moving your hips faster and then Sam’s grunting softly near your ear as you hug him close.

 

He ducks his head to press kisses along your heaving chest and you play with his hair as you kiss his head.  He works his kisses up your neck, then under your chin as you slowly lean your head back.  

 

Gently he grasps your cheek, his hand so big it covers most of your face, and his thumb sits near the corner of your mouth.

 

There’s a small crease of concentration between his brows as he looks at you.  You meet his stare but quickly press a kiss to the bridge of his nose, “You’re staring,” you teasingly whisper.

 

“I know…” and you meet his stare again.

 

“...I love you,” he finishes his thought.

 

His hand doesn’t leave your face and you feel your eyes get watery.

 

“I love you (y/n),” he repeats just because.

 

When your face breaks into a warm smile, so does his. His eyes crease at the corners and you want to kiss him forever.

 

“I love you too.”

 

You take his face in your hands as he quietly mumbles a “yeah?” through his smile as you pull him closer, kissing him good. You give a quick nod into it to answer his one word question.

 

Mouths never pulling away, he stands up with you, then kneels on the bed, laying you down first gently before covering you with his body.

 

As the kiss ends, he moves down a bit, just placing slow, sweet kisses along your chest, your breasts, and your upper torso.  You continuously comb your hand through his hair as you watch him, your other hand resting on his shoulder.  

 

Then his kisses start moving lower. You only look away when his mouth hits his mark and you involuntarily lean your head back into the pillow at the pleasurable feeling.  His hands spread your thighs apart more and you don’t remember what thinking feels like.

 

At the end of it all, Sam’s laying on his back next to you, face turned towards you, as you lean on your elbow right next to him.  You use your other hand to touch him; tracing shapes along his chest, caressing his beard, or running it through his curls.  He leans forward every few minutes to kiss your skin or he picks up your hand to kiss your palm and your fingers.  

 

You smooth your hand over his hair and lean down to kiss his forehead.

 

“This the longest you stayed in one spot since you started that trip of yours?” his voice floats into the comfortable silence.

 

You keep playing with his hair as you look at him, “It is.”

 

He nods slowly as he glances away.  You kiss his cheek.

 

“You worried about me leaving?” you ask gently.

 

“Be lyin’ if I said it wasn’t in the back of mind some days.”

 

And you can’t blame him. He knows how nomadic you had been in your travels before finding ‘Sweet Virginia’.  But you also had never found a Sam before.

 

“Yeah, well...I think I found what I’ve been looking for,”  and with your words he looks at you with that soft smile of his, “so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

 

His hand snakes into your hair and pulls you down to meet his lips.

 

-

Two weeks since he told you he loved you and nothing has changed. He still stops touching you when others come around except now it’s starting to hurt.

 

Instead of waiting until it gets worse for you, you decide to just get out now.

 

“Sam!” Maggie runs breathlessly into the office.

 

“What?” he’s panicked.

 

“She’s packing up to go!”

 

“Who is?”

 

“(Y/N)!”

 

His heart drops and he quickly makes his way outside and heads towards you as you put your suitcase in the trunk of your car.

 

“What are you doing?” he tries to stay calm, but he’s so worried about you slipping away.

 

“Leaving,” but you can’t look at him. You place your second suitcase into the trunk.

 

“What do you mean you’re leavin’?” He’s only a half foot away from you now.

 

“Exactly what I said,” you slam the trunk closed.

 

He steps in front of your path to the driver’s door.

 

“I thought...I thought you told me I didn’t have to worry about you doin’ this?”

 

He watches as you quickly swipe at a tear.

 

“And I thought you said you loved me?”

 

It stops him as more confusion sets in,  “I do love you.”

 

“Is that why we’re still pretending like we’re nothing? Why it isn’t until the sun goes down that it’s okay for us to be together?”

 

He glances at the ground, then into the distance before at you again.

 

“I tried to be okay with it, but I love you too much to continue on like this. Let yourself be happy again, Sam.”

 

You go to walk past him but he takes your face in his hands and uses his body to push you up against the car. He feels you weakly push at his chest when he first kisses you, but it’s not long before your body relaxes and you kiss him back. The salt from your tears mixing into it.

 

He doesn’t care that Maggie is watching from the office or Rosie from the walkway across the lot. He doesn’t move or let you go.

 

“You’re right...you’re absolutely right,” he admits quietly.

 

“I don’t want to leave,” you whisper your confession.

 

“Don’t,” and he kisses you again, “I love you. You’re nothing to hide, I’m so sorry,” another kiss, “I’m sorry.”

 

Maggie is too far to hear the conversation but she sure as hell sees the kissing. You both hear her cheers from the office doorway.  And just like that, a smile spreads on your face followed by his own.

 

His arms wrap around you as he kisses you again.

 

-

 

Another two weeks pass and things are different.  

 

There’s an extra room available at the motel now...yours. You moved into Sam’s that same day he finally let himself be truly happy.

 

You’re looking over the reservation book as Sam reads the newspaper next to you. His arm is wrapped around your waist, hand resting by your navel, thumb rubbing the fabric of your shirt.

 

Maggie walks in for her shift and smiles at the two of you. She told you two later that she always figured you two had liked each other, she couldn’t believe how well you two hid it.

 

Sam pulls you into him, you now being held chest to chest with him so Maggie can occupy your spot.  You smile at his actions and he smirks as he kisses you.  When he pulls away, he looks over your shoulder and you nuzzle his beard covered jaw. He circles something on the paper.

 

You turn in his embrace to see that he has a few things circled on the paper, you hadn’t even realized he had been doing that.

 

“What are you up to?”

 

He gives a small smile as he squeezes your hip and kisses your temple, “Found some houses to look at.”

 

Maggie smiles big at his words and you look at him in surprise.

 

He chuckles quietly at your expression, “What do you say? Feel like looking for a home?”

 

You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him.

 

He rubs your back as you whisper in his ear.

 

“Yes, but I already have one...you.”


End file.
